


Of Princess Cupcakes and Permanence

by veritas_st



Series: Talia Hale Junior, Princess Of Pink [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kid!Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a baby girl gets dropped on Derek's doorstep, the first person he calls, well the first person who answers anyway, is Stiles.  Turns out Stiles is a natural with kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Princess Cupcakes and Permanence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FluffyGremlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGremlin/gifts).



> For my darling Fluffy, Happy Birthday sweetness.

When Stiles gets the simple one word text from Derek, “ _Help_ , his mind goes immediately from the half eaten grilled cheese sandwich sitting on his bed and _Assassin’s Creed_ to metal spikes through torsos (and yes that’s happened on more than one occasion and Stiles doesn’t want to think about how weird his life is that spikes through torsos are a normal part of it) and Evil Alphas. 

He’s off his bed, skidding through his front door to his jeep before he can even register. 

It’s not often Derek asks for help, particularly from him. They gotten past the “I’m going to rip your throat out with my teeth” part of their “relationship” but it’s still not rock solid more than sand solid. Derek appreciates that Stiles can actually help sometimes, rather than just be irritating and since Boyd’s death, Stiles has seen Derek in a completely different light. Someone who needs support rather than a creeping creeper that creeps. 

So he’s running up the stairs of Derek’s loft, tugging open the ridiculously heavy sliding door and jumping down the three stairs when Derek stops pacing in front of the large windows. He’s practically sillouted by the light streaming in through the glass but Stiles can still see the tense line in his shoulders (honestly though, when are Derek’s shoulders ever _not_ tense?). 

“What’s going on? Who died? Who attacked? Who’s got a metal spike through their torso?” Stiles pants and Derek steps away from the windows and his face illuminates with the natural light of the loft. He looks tired, exhausted even, and more than a little frazzled. His normally artfully style bed hair (no Stiles doesn’t think about Derek in bed) is ruffled more than normal. 

“Stiles,” Derek sounds relieved which in itself is weird because Derek is _never_ relieved to see Stiles. 

A small sneeze from the corner of the loft makes Stiles jump and Derek lower his head to his hand. 

“Did you buy a kitten?” Stiles asks going over to where the sneeze came from.

“No,” Derek answers and Stiles looks back at him hopefully. 

“A puppy?” 

“Not exactly,” Derek replies as Stiles finds the source of the sneeze. 

“Holy shit,” in a Moses basket at the foot of Derek’s bed is a tiny bundle of fur, pointy ears, tiny fangs and small claws. “Why is there a gargoyle in a Moses basket at the foot of your bed?” Stiles asks staring down at the aforementioned Gargoyle and blinking as it’s ears and fangs recede leaving a baby in its place. 

“It’s not a gargoyle,” Derek says and steps up to the basket. The bundle waves it’s tiny hands at him, claws drawing back into it’s fingers. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a baby you idiot,” Derek answers and Stiles slaps him in the stomach with the back of his hand. It probably hurts Stiles more than Derek because honestly, Stiles wasn’t even aware that someone could have muscles that hard. 

“I can see that, thank you Derek, I think, what I meant with that question is, why the hell is it here? Who the hell does it belong to? And why the hell would you text me?” Derek sighs and reaches into the basket. The baby makes a noise as Derek holds it out in his outstretched arms. “Pretty sure you’re not meant to hold it like that dude.” The baby raises its hands towards Derek and Stiles is pretty sure there’s a smile somewhere on its lips. It could be wind though, that happens right? “Oh my God, is this some kind of Three Men and A Baby situation? Except with you it would be One Werewolf and a Werewolf Baby.” 

“You’re not helping,” Derek grumbles as the baby starts to grizzle, its face screwing up. 

“How the hell do you want me to help?” Stiles asks helplessly, looking at the small face. “Did you call Lydia? Allison? Cora? Any other _woman_?” 

“Yes, Lydia laughed, Allison hates babies and Cora’s away at school…” Derek frowns at the baby as it wriggles in his grip. 

“My lucky day,” Stiles grumbles, tearing his gaze away from Derek’s clenching jaw to the baby’s face, “Well despite the fact you have now bruised my ego my calling me last, thanks by the way, I don’t know what you want me to do,” he shoves his hands in his pockets and Derek turns to him, baby held in front of him like it might explode any second. And judging on its facial expression right that, that’s not entirely farfetched. 

“Hold it,” Derek steps forward and Stiles steps back. 

“Wait what?”

“Hold her…” Derek says again pushing the bundle into his personal space and Stiles has to wrench his hands out of his pockets to catch it before Derek lets go. Stiles stares at it. 

“How do you know it’s a girl?” He wrinkles his nose and looks at it. 

“She smells like a girl,” Derek says simply, shrugging gently. He stares at Stiles and the baby briefly before turning away. 

“She smells like she needs a diaper change,” Stiles wrinkles his nose even further and debates putting the baby down and walking out, hopefully waking tomorrow morning to find this is all some weird dream. 

“I’m going to get some,” Derek pulls his wallet off the coffee table and shoves it into his pocket and Stiles’s stomach hits the floor. 

“You’re leaving me with her?” He asks, well aware that he sound panicked but hello? Derek is leaving him with a baby and this day just got weird as hell. 

“Just…don’t burn the place down,” Derek says and walks towards the door. 

“Derek…Derek you can’t leave me with a baby…a _werewolf_ baby…what if she bites me?” 

“She won’t be able to turn anyone unless she’s an Alpha and even if she is she won’t be able to turn anyone until she hits puberty,” Derek replies like Stiles is stupid for not knowing that. And Stiles glares at him. The baby squirms in his arms and her little fingers curl into his t-shirt, he looks down at her. 

“Oh of course, how did I not know that…” he looks up and Derek’s gone. “Great…Stiles and a baby…what now?” The baby sneezes again and Stiles looks down at her furry face. She smiles up at him and suddenly, scarily, he’s deeply in love. 

…

There’s a wall of diapers. Literally. An entire aisle dedicated to baby items, bottles in all sizes, things that look like torture items but call themselves pumps. Honestly the entire thing is making Derek’s already high blood pressure rise. He can feel his heart beating loudly and he wipes his hands on his jeans staring up at the wall of diapers. 

Who knew there were so many? Surely they all wear the same thing? 

“You ok there, love?” A voice from his right shoulder has him jumping slightly. It’s a warmly concerned, if a little amused, woman staring at him. She looks vaguely like Jennifer and his wants to growl at her for it. Fucking Jennifer, he wants to strangle that woman. But he’s pretty sure he needs this woman’s help so he looks helplessly at the diapers and shrugs. 

“Ok, how old is your baby?” The woman asks, taking pity on the stupid man trying to buy diapers for the first time. Derek frowns and wants to correct her, she’s not Derek’s child, except she really is. She smells like pack, and he already feels the desire to protect her more than any other child that has ever been in his life. Not that there have been many. 

“Nine months,” give or take he thinks. She’s probably nearer one and a half how Wolves measure age but he’s not about to give that particular bit of information up. 

“Right,” she reaches across to the never ending sea of diapers and picks up a box that looks for too large to hold things that go on a baby’s backside. She dumps them into his cart. 

“Why are there so many?” He hears himself asking and the woman pats him gently on the shoulder. 

“First shopping trip?” 

“I haven’t…been around…before this, her mother…” He trails off. He doesn’t know why he even began telling her but she looks like she’s about to cry now and like she wants to pull Derek into a hug. 

“So where is she right now?” She asks and Derek gets the feeling she’s asking about the baby, not the mother. 

“At home…with a…um…friend…” he doesn’t really classify Stiles as a friend but he’s not about to start defining his relationship with Stiles to a complete stranger over Diapers. He shakes his head and she pats his shoulder again. Derek feels a full on panic attack rising in the back of his throat. “Oh my God,” Derek presses his hands to his knees and breathes in through his nose. “I don’t think I can do this.” The woman kneels down on the floor and gets into his eyeline. 

“Of course you can, you look like a capable man, and you’ve got help right?” Derek breathes through his nose a couple of times, digs his nails into his palm and then straightens up. He nods and runs a hand through his hair and wonders what the hell it is about this woman that makes him feel comfortable enough to break down in front of her. 

“Yeah, from an idiot who irritates the hell out of me,” he mutters and she nods sagely. 

“All the best one’s do, love.” She looks at Derek like she knows what he’s talking about and Derek shakes his head. 

“No I…” he starts and she interrupts, blessedly, because there’s no way he’s trying to tell her Stiles isn’t his partner. He wonders briefly if Stiles has burnt the loft down yet. 

“What else do you need?” She asks and Derek wants to hug her suddenly and that’s so totally out of character for him he takes a step back and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Everything,” he admits and she nods. 

“Right…” She pulls the cart towards her and heads off down the aisle, pausing every now and then to pull things into it. There are boxes of wipes, powder, diaper rash cream, snacks, food, and all of it makes Derek want to have another mini panic attack. He looks down at it with eyes that he can practically feel are about to fall out of his head and the lady laughs gently at him. “You’ll get it.” 

“When?”

“You think anyone is prepared to be a parent?” 

“I certainly wasn’t,” 

“You’ll do just fine,” 

…

Of course the instant love he feels for the little girl doesn’t actually last and by the time Derek comes back through the door with a stupid amount of grocery bags, Stiles has had to take off his shoes and socks because the little demon peed on them. He’s also got vomit down the back of his shoulder, on his favourite t-shirt.

“Where the hell have you been?” He demands and the little girl struggles in his arms, letting out a pitiful cry because she’s probably hungry. Stiles is at least, thinking of his half eaten grilled cheese sandwich. It makes his stomach growl loudly and the baby stills, lets out a small giggle and curls her fingers into his t-shirt. 

“Shopping,” Derek grumbles, pulling out a packet of something from one of the bags and ripping it open. He produces what looks like a Cheeto and holds it out to him. 

“Oh god, I’m starving,” Stiles reaches for the Cheeto and Derek lets out a small growl. 

“It’s for her,” he says and Stiles wrinkles his nose. 

“I don’t know much about babies but I’m pretty sure you cant give them Cheetos dude,” Stiles says, watching with jealousy as the little girl reaches out her hands and shoves half of the corn puff into her mouth. She lets out a contended rumble from her throat as she munches on it and her blue eyes stare up at Stiles. 

“It’s not a Cheeto, it’s an organic cheese corn puff,” he looks down at the packet, glaring at it like it’s the source of all his problems. There’s a satisfied burp from the kid in Stiles’s arms, that’s growing heavier by the moment in case anyone was wondering, and then a tiny whine as she holds her hand out for another one. 

“Of course,” Stiles rolls his eyes and puts the girl on the floor. She looks up at him indignantly. “You’re heavy.” He says to her and she glares but then munches on the other corn puff Derek hands to her. Derek stays where he is, crouched in front of her at a safe distance and she regards him with eyes that seem older than she is. “So…” They both look at him and it’s almost eerie. The same eyes, slightly different shades stare back at him. The baby coughs suddenly and a bit of half dissolved corn puff slides from her mouth and down her chin. Stiles has the sudden urge to catch it and slip it back into her mouth and he shudders to himself. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…whose baby is she? I mean I’m assuming she’s half yours given her propensity to grow fangs and what not but who’s the mom?” Derek sits on the floor and crosses his legs. He drops his chin into one hand, the elbow resting in his knee and she lets out a contended hum and she munches on the cheese puff. 

“Jennifer,” Derek says simply watching the little girl. She looks back up at him and he hands her another cheese puff. 

“I’m sorry…Jennifer? My old English teacher?” Stiles sits heavily down on the floor and Might-Be-Called-Talia grins at both of them. 

“Yes,” Derek says simply. 

“My old English teacher who you slept with? My old English teacher that then turned out to be an evil human sacrificing Druid?” Derek growls softly and Stiles ignores him, “my old English Teacher who sacrificed a girl I had known since I was 3? That Jennifer?” The little girl lifts her hands and wiggles her fingers. They both just stare at her wondering what the hell she wants now. 

“Yes, Stiles, that Jennifer,” Derek sounds tired, too tired to even be annoyed about the woman who wormed her way into his life purely as a distraction for him. _Another_ woman. Stiles would just love to make a crack about Derek’s choice in women. He would if he didn’t value his life. But he does, very much so. 

“Oh well great, not only is she half werewolf but she’s probably half evil bitch as well,” Stiles looks at the baby who looks back and blinks. She’s got a line of spit hanging off her chin. 

“Bah,” she lets out and Stiles reaches forward and catches the spit with his finger. He wipes it on Derek’s jeans. 

“You should call her Talia,” Stiles says and Derek flinches next to him. Might-Be-Called-Talia sticks two fingers into her mouth and munches on them. Stiles pulls them gently out of her hand. 

“What?” 

“Well if you’re going to keep her she needs a name and her mom was an evil bi…bee-eye-tea-see-aitch,” Stiles spells the word behind his hand and Derek rolls his eyes so violently that Stiles thinks they might actually fall out of his head, “so…it’s either that or Laura,” Might-Be-Called-Talia pushes herself to her knees and crawls towards Stiles. 

“Who says I’m keeping her?” Derek says and he pushes himself to his feet. He rummages around the grocery bags and pulls out a childs lidded cup. He pulls off the cup and pours water into it. He hands it to Might-Be-Called-Talia who shoves the spout into her mouth and drinks one handed as she crawls into Stiles’s lap. He glares half-heartedly down at her as she leans her head against his chest. 

“What else are you going to do with her…I mean it’s not like her mom’s in the picture anymore,” Derek throws his hands up and slams them back to the counter in the middle of the room. Might-Be-Called-Talia jumps and her face screws up as she looks up at Stiles. He makes a face down at her and she grins around her cup. 

“What the hell do I know about babies?” Derek says and Stiles pokes Might-Be-Called-Talia in the nose. 

“What the hell do _I_ know about babies?” He asks and Derek glares at him. “You still called me…speaking of which, I do need to get home soon,” he puts the little girl down on the floor and pushes himself to his feet. 

“You’re not leaving me with her,” Derek says and Stiles picks up his shoes, sniffs them and decides to throw caution to the wind and shove his feet into them, baby pee and all. 

“What do you want me to do, call my dad and say ‘hey remember that guy I accused of murder…uh-huh…that one…well his evil ex-girlfriend just dropped a half werewolf baby on his doorstep and he needs me to help look after her’?” Stiles says and makes his way over to the door. He’s a little worried about leaving the child with Derek who looks like he might want to eat her right now just to get rid of her but he’s got stuff to do dammit. People might think he just hangs around playing _Assassin’s Creed_ but his life is full and rich thank you. Stiles curls his fingers around the door handle and before he can tug, he lets out a surprised squeak and finds himself with his back to the door and a furious, if a little terrified, Derek looming over him. Might-Be-Called-Talia lets out a plaintiff cry from the other side of the room. 

“Leave me alone with her and I will rip your throat out…with my teeth,” Stiles pushes at his shoulder and slides out from between the door and Derek’s body. 

“That threat wore out years ago,” he walks over to the kid and bends down to pick her up. She curls sticky fingers into his t-shirt and glares at Derek. Stiles laughs and grabs a box of diapers from the counter. “Bring the wipes,” he calls out over his shoulder as he makes his way over to the worn out couch. 

…

Stiles looks down at what they’re now calling Talia (and no that didn’t make his eyes prickle that Stiles came up with that name, no sirey), like she’s a puzzle waiting to be solved. He lays her flat on the couch and cocks his head to the side. 

“How difficult can this be?” he asks, eyes still fixed on her. Derek hands him the wipe which he takes, again without looking at him, and throws them down next to her. “I mean…it’s not rocket science…right?” He finally looks at Derek. And Derek, well he just shrugs because honestly, for a handful of very few times in his life, he’s terrified. This little bundle of skin and bones terrifies him. Talia wiggles her legs and pulls one of her feet towards her mouth. Stiles lets out a laugh and sinks to his knees in front of the couch. And in no way does Derek think about Stiles sinking to his knees in another situation. Stiles pulls Talia’s toe from her mouth and reaches down to the little buttons on her dirty pink dress. “We’re gonna need more clothes,” he says absently, undoing the little buttons and revealing immaculate, pale skin and a tiny pot-belly. She’s probably about nine months, doing the math quickly in his head, about eighteen months since he last saw Jennifer, seventeen since he last slept with her, she could be a hell of a lot smaller. He thanks God that Jennifer didn’t dump Talia on him eight months ago. “You can’t go around in this all the time,” Stiles says to her and he pulls her arms out of the dress and holds it up in front of him like he’s some kind of fashion designer. Talia giggles when Stiles throws it over his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. He grimaces, and Derek is frozen to the spot, when Stiles reaches down to the diaper and rips it open. “Here we go,” he takes a deep breath and pulls it open.

They both recoil and Talia giggles again. “Dude,” Stiles waves his hand in front of his nose and Derek thinks he might vomit, “that is so wrong.” 

“What the hell has she been eating?” Derek asks as Stiles pulls the diaper out from under her and curls it in on itself and tapes it together. He holds it out to Derek. He raises his eyebrows when Derek doesn’t take it. “No.” 

“It’s a diaper not a hand grenade,” Stiles says sighing and putting it on the couch. Derek wrinkles his nose. “You’ve had black blood seeping from wounds in your side and you asked me to cut off your own arm yet a dirty diaper is too much for you?” He pulls a wipe from the packet and tentatively wipes at Talia. “Big scary Alpha,” he mutters and Talia hums in response, pulling her toe back into her mouth. 

“Shut up,” Derek mutters back, and curses his ability to have decent come-backs when it comes to Stiles. He thinks it might have been a bad idea to ask Stiles for help, he sees these two becoming allies in their mission to drive Derek crazy. 

“Right,” Stiles holds out the used wipes and Derek holds open one of the diaper bags the woman in the store told him to buy. Stiles shoves the wipes in. “I think that’s as clean as we’re going to get. Sorry darling,” he pokes Talia in the stomach gently, “you’ve been lumbered with two baby virgins…whoa that came out wrong.” He reaches behind him and pulls a diaper out of the box. He holds it up in front of him. “How do these bastards work then?” It falls open and Derek has a sudden memory of his mother changing Cora’s diaper, Derek with his hands on the changing station, standing on tiptoes to watch. He closes his eyes against the ever present dull ache of loss when it comes to his family and pulls the diaper from Stiles’s hands. 

“Move over,” he shoves Stiles with his shoulder who grumbles something about Derek needing to learn manners and holds Talia’s two legs in one hand. He pulls gently, puts the right side of the diaper under her and lowers her back down. He pulls the front of the diaper around and tugs the tabs open, before sticking them down. Stiles whistles and crosses his arms. 

“Looks like you don’t need me, Super Dad,” he jokes and Derek glares at him, pushes himself to his feet. He glares his, hopefully, scariest glare down at Stiles and leaves them both to it. He hears Stiles chattering away to Talia, nonsense probably. But the strange thing is it doesn’t irritate him like it should. He shakes himself and dumps the diaper bag into the trashcan as Stiles appears with Talia on his hip. “Ok seriously though…” he holds her out to Derek. “I do need to go.” Talia cocks her head to the side and looks at him and Derek stares back. “Oh for God’s sake Derek, she’s not going to kill you,” he pushes her into Derek’s chest and Derek glares at him and he curls his arms around her as Stiles lets go. She whines and holds her hands out to Stiles. 

“Uncle Stiles has got to go,” he says, letting her curl her small fingers around his finger. 

“You are _not_ uncle Stiles,” Derek grumbles and Stiles sticks his tongue out. 

“Have a nice evening, you two,” he waves at them both and skips up the stairs. He spares them both a laugh before he tugs the door open and is gone. 

Leaving Derek alone. With a baby. 

Fuck. 

…

Stiles runs his hands through his hair and they smell like babies. He shakes his head as he grips the steering wheel of his jeep and wonders when the hell his life got so weird that he can take on a pack of angry Alphas but babies make him have a mini freak out. 

He has to admit though, that he handled Talia expertly, despite being terrified of the little thing when Derek walked out. It helps that she seemed to like Stiles and trust him almost instantly. 

He lets out an hysterical laugh at the thought of Derek alone with her now. Both of the glaring at each other from across the loft. And he feels a swell of… _something_ for the little girl dumped on the grouchy Alpha. To be fair, Derek’s lost a lot, starting with his family and ending with Boyd and everyone else in between. Peter’s kinda MIA right now, gone after they managed to get rid of Jennifer, unbeknownst to them pregnant at the time. Stiles is still a little unsure how Deaton managed that, but he assures everyone she can’t come back into the town limits of Beacon Hills. Stiles wrinkles his nose thinking, pulls up to the lights and taps his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“How the hell…” he trails off thinking to himself. How the hell, if Jennifer cant come within the town limits, did she manage to drop Talia off at Derek’s? Stiles’s mind starting whirring as he pulls away and down towards his own house. The lights are on in the kitchen and Stiles grimaces as he pulls his jeep into the driveway. The porch door opens and his father stands in the light. “Hey dad.” 

“Stiles,” he dad greets and stands aside to let Stiles in. John has been trailing off work recently, not working as ridiculous hours as he used to, which, in Stiles’s point of view is great. Of course it leads to a bored father, which leads to a meddling father, which leads to a secretive Stiles. 

“Out with Lyds,” he says and his dad nods, follows him into the kitchen. Stiles grabs the milk from the fridge and puts it to his lips. His dad frowns and Stiles rolls his eyes and grabs a glass instead. “Boyfriend trouble,” he explains whilst he’s pouring. John nods again. Not only is John worried, and that’s fine and totally normal Stiles thinks. At least his father is worried, he does know about the supernatural shit that goes on in Beacon Hills after all. And wasn’t _that_ a conversation Stiles never wants to have with anyone ever again. _Ever_. (It had taken Scott wolfing out at the kitchen table to convince him and John had had a stiff whiskey or two, taken a walk around the backyard and come back to the table demanding to know exactly what occurrences were due to the two of them). But his dad is also pressuring him to pick a college. Stiles decided to take a year out after finishing High School, Lydia going off to win her Fields Medal, Allison and Scott both going to the same college but within ten miles of Beacon Hills. Danny had gone God knows where, but he still keeps in touch every now and then. So in town, apart from at the moment due to the Summer Break, it’s just Derek, Isaac (who refused to leave Derek’s side after Erica and Boyd) and him. Stiles has been working at the local library, it’s a good excuse to look at all the strange books that anyone else would probably be question by the police for. 

So he’s stuck with a father who’s convinced every time Stiles is late he’s out with some supernatural creature (that god he doesn’t know about Lydia) or that he’s shooting drugs into his system behind some seedy bar on the wrong side of town. 

“Uh-huh,” he dad says and leans back against the counter. 

“So…” Stiles starts and his dad sighs next to him. “How old to babies have to be before they can walk?” 

“Oh my God…” His dad drops his head into his hands. “Have you got someone pregnant?” 

“What? No…What?” John looks at Stiles sideways, a vaguely impressed expression on his face. “Dad…no.” 

“Just checking, what’s with the baby questions though?” Stiles shoves his hands into his pockets and his dad nudges his shoulder. 

“Just wondering, cos there was this kid in the market today who looked about five and it was still in a buggy and I thought that was weird and ok _fine_ ,” Stiles throws his hands up at his dad’s expression, “I don’t know why I even bother trying to lie to you anymore,” he says and John laughs. 

“I knew you were lying about something all those years, I got good at spotting it. So what’s really going on?” Stiles sighs and debates actually telling his father. It would be weird, telling his dad he spent the afternoon with Derek Hale’s illegitimate love child, who happened to be spawned by some Evil Druid Ex English teacher (John is aware of Jennifer and hates her for it because she actually liked Stiles and said good things about him at Parent Teacher conferences). 

“Remember Jennifer? Evil Druid…” he says and John bristles next to him. 

“The one teacher that liked you ends up being evil,” he sighs. 

“Hey…my Chemistry teacher was evil and he didn’t like me,” Stiles defends himself in typical Stiles manner, without actually thinking about it. 

“Your chemistry teacher was sacrificed,” John points out and Stiles nods his assent. 

“Still evil,” he supplies and John nods back at him. 

“So yes, Jennifer.” 

“Well, turns out she was pregnant and _strangely_ enough has deemed it a _really_ good idea to drop the kid off with Derek,” Stiles risks a glance up at his dad and would laugh at his expression if he thought he could get away with it right now. 

“Murder Suspect Derek Hale?” 

“He was exonerated,” Stiles protests and John nods and waves his hand absently. 

“He got Jennifer pregnant didn’t he?” John asks and Stiles sighs and then nods. 

“Yeah…totally…made the beast with two backs and everything,” he says and John lets out a small laugh, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and lowering himself down into it. 

“Ok Shakespeare…and what do you have to do with this?” He kicks out one of the other chairs and Stiles makes a beeline for the freezer and grabs a litre of ice cream and a spoon off the drying rack before he sits. 

“Turns out the kid loves me,” Stiles shrugs, shoving a spoon of ice cream into his mouth. John takes the spoon from his and eats a spoonful himself. 

“Well children aren’t known for their good taste,” he says around a mouthful of ice cream. 

“Thanks,” Stiles mutters and takes his spoon back. 

“Listen, Derek’s got some serious thinking to do. First of all if he’s going to keep it, no way Child Services will let him keep it in his loft, that place is a death trap,” John says and Stiles taps the spoon against his nose. 

“Her,” he says, thinking about Talia’s little nose and her big eyes. 

“What?”

“Her, it’s a her. Talia,” he says and tries to ignore the memory of Derek’s face when he suggested the name. 

“Right…” his dad continues, oblivious to Stiles’s thoughts, “secondly, if he does want to keep it…her, he’ll have to prove he’s the father by DNA testing and doesn’t, oh I dunno, wolf DNA show up on their tests?” Stiles taps the spoon on the table once. 

“That’s a good point,” he says pointing the spoon at his dad. 

“Damn right it is,” John says leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Stiles slams the lid back on the ice cream. 

“I better let him know…” he says, shoving the ice cream back into the freezer and throwing the spoon into the sink. 

“Stiles?” His dad calls as Stiles is halfway up the stairs, phone in hand. 

“Yeah?” He scrolls through his contacts to Derek. 

“Why did he call you?” His dad asks emerging from the kitchen. There’s a look on his face that Stiles can’t define and he shrugs. 

“I dunno…no one else was in town, I guess,” he replies, and heads up to his bedroom. 

“Right.” 

…

Talia wont sleep. She cries, fidgets, fusses and eventually Derek manages to get her to be at least still and quiet, if not asleep, but sitting her in front of the TV watching old re-runs of Jerry Spinger. Stiles made him get the TV, said if he was going to be there a lot doing research he at least wanted a decent TV to chill out for five minutes during research time. Derek had made him well aware he wasn’t invited to chill out at any time in his loft. Stiles has just stuck his tongue out and had texted him links to different TV’s until Derek had gotten so irritated, he relented and bought one. Turns out it was a good idea though because Talia sits next to him, one tiny hand resting on his thigh, the other stuffed into her mouth, watching highly inappropriate television for a nine month old baby. 

It’s how Stiles finds them the next morning, letting himself into the loft practically silently and laughing down at them. Derek wakes to his smiling face and Talia’s head in his lap. 

“God I wish you have Facebook so I could tag you in that picture,” he says as he pushes his phone back into his pocket. 

“Saa,” Talia’s lets out and reaches up for Stiles. He grins and ruffles her hair and she practically purrs leaning into his hand. Derek wonders how often these two are going to gang up on him. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Derek mutters, pushing himself to his feet. Talia rolls into the space he left and snuggles into the warm cushions with a contented grunt. 

“I had a thought,” Stiles says and Derek pops his back, and tries to ignore the way Stiles’s eyes flicker down to the strip of skin between his jeans and t-shirt. 

“Uh-oh,” he says and Talia mimics him. Stiles points at her. 

“Don’t you start,” he says and she grins, shoving her thumb into her mouth. “So I had a thought, firstly you’re gonna have to baby proof this place, it’s a death trap. Secondly, we’re going to have to think what to tell Child Services because Derek, my buddy, there is no way they’re gonna just let you keep her.” 

“Why do we have to tell them anything? And I’m not your buddy,” Talia whines from her place on the couch and Derek hauls her up into his arms, groaning slightly. “Breakfast?” He asks her and Stiles tries not to grin at the domestic scene as Derek walks to the kitchen with a baby on his hip. Seems like their night on the couch has bonded them somewhat. 

Derek doesn’t have a highchair for her, Stiles makes a mental note of all the things he’s going to need if she’s going to be staying around as Derek drops her onto the counter. He pushes her back a little and her little feet stick out in front of her. She looks at them like she’s never seen them before, points at them and looks up at Stiles with an amused “dah”. Stiles pinches her big toes between his fingers and she giggles, pulling her feet away from him. Derek hands her a piece of bread and she munches down on it enthusiastically. 

“Have you tried to get hold of Jennifer?” Stiles asks and Derek stiffens, pouring milk into the bottle for Talia. His shoulders set as he flicks the kettle on. 

“She dumped Talia on me, she doesn’t deserve anything,” he says, growling softly and Talia growls as well, grinning back at Stiles when he blinks at her. 

“You’re a bad influence on her,” he points at Talia who chews thoughtfully on her bread, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. Derek looks at her and Stiles sees his face relax a little, there’s still a tension in his shoulders but something in his face eases as Talia looks back at him. Stiles can’t help but feel he’s intruding on Pack Business when Talia bares her teeth a little and Derek does it back. Talia drops her gaze to her bread and munches on it and Derek straightens and flicks a switch on the coffee machine. Derek slides her bottle of milk across the counter and it hits Talia’s thigh gently. She abandons her bread and shoves the bottle into her mouth, the sticky half-chewed mass of bread lying on the counter next to her. 

“So what do we do?” Derek asks and Stiles blinks, because honestly he’s never heard Derek ask anyone else’s opinion let alone with something as important as a baby. Talia gurgles and lets out a belch that would have shamed Scott. Stiles shakes his head at her but looks back at Derek. 

“We?” He asks, not really wanting to push this but feeling the need to know why the hell Derek wants to keep him in this little loop. Derek shrugs and looks at Talia as she shoves the bottle back into her mouth. 

“Me…I…what do _I_ do?” Derek corrects himself and Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“You asking me as a Baby Werewolf Adoption expert?” Stiles asks trying to lighten the mood and Derek scowls his best scowl at him. 

“Stiles.” 

“Fine…not that I have any idea but I would imagine you might want to go get her checked out medically…possibly go to Deaton as you don’t want all sorts of questions like ‘hey…why are ears pointy?’ or ‘why does she grow fur when she sneezes?’,” as if on cue Talia sneezes and fur grows down from in front of her ears and across the backs of her hands. She grins around her bottle at Stiles and Derek lets a small rumble out from his throat. Talia looks at him and her face returns to normal. “Ok…see that? That can’t happen in public.” Talia drops her bottle and looks over the counter. 

“Uh-oh,” she says and looks up at Stiles. Stiles sighs and wonders, as he stoops to pick the bottle up, how this girl wound him around her fingers in the space of a few hours. 

“She also needs a highchair and a baby seat for your car,” Derek glares at him, “yeah, yeah, I know, it’ll ruin your street cred with all the other werewolves but safety first.” Derek glares at him harder. “And clothes, I mean she looks cute now but give her another hour and there’s gonna be crap all over that shirt,” Stiles looks at Talia as she surveys him, her bottle on the counter next to her. There’s a calculating look in her eyes, one he’s seen in Cora before and if there was any doubt in his mind that this little girl was Derek’s child, its gone when she practically rolls her eyes at him and looks down at her discarded bread. 

“I don’t think she likes you,” Derek mutters. 

“Bullcrap, she thinks I’m adorable.” Talia blinks dispassionately and Derek laughs. Honest to God, laughs and Stiles can’t help but laugh with him. 

They laugh until Stiles’s stomach hurts and Derek’s leaning against the counter and it feels good to see him like this, to see him how he could have been without all the hurt, his family, Laura, Erica and Boyd, without the Alpha Pack and Peter leaving and Jennifer. Talia looks between them like they are both insane and chews thoughtfully on some more bread. 

…

Derek gets the highchair.

He also gets the carseat, one of those chairs that you hang from doorframes that the kids bounce in, and every single type of baby-proofing item that you can think of. His room upstairs has been changed into a nursery with the help of, surprisingly, Allison and Cora. 

And wasn’t Cora just a piece of work when she found out. Derek can still remember her screeching phone call from college just after Stiles had caved and told her. She had driven down the next day to meet her niece and had instantly fallen in love. 

“Has she got a name yet?” Cora had asked, squatting down in front of Talia. Talia blew a spit bubble and reached out to Cora. 

“Talia,” Derek said quietly and Stiles flinches slightly as she turned to look at Derek, her eyes shining. “Stiles named her.” Cora looked at him, her expression blank except for the tears threatening to overflow and Derek got what she was feeling. He felt the same when Stiles had first suggested the name. 

“It’s a perfect name,” she whispered in Stiles’s ear as she had hugged him, Stiles’s face a picture of bewilderment over her shoulder. 

They were a unit, Cora and Talia and it hurt Derek’s chest sometimes to look at them both and see Laura and his mom in their eyes. 

Scott had laughed, but then looked incredibly serious and Isaac had chewed on his thumbnail watching Talia as avidly as she watched him. 

Allison though, Allison had surprised Derek when she had turned up with a pot of white paint, rollers and dust sheets and demanded to paint his room. Her and Stiles had scrubbed and cleaned and painted and set up a crib in one corner, hung a mobile above the crib with little fluffy wolves hanging off it. The little chest of drawers that Stiles had found and sent Derek the link to repeatedly until Derek had bought it (that was becoming a habit with Stiles) had been painted to match the mobile and now kept all her pink clothes, courtesy of Cora. 

Talia was now walking, or toddling rather, falling over more often than not but making a nuisance of herself and Deaton had had to put bandages on scraped knees on more than one occasion. He looked at Derek with a wry smile. 

They had settled into a semi-routine over the last 6 months (has it really been that long since she’s been here?). 

Talia doesn’t sleep well, tosses and turns and fusses until Derek pulls her into his arms and takes her downstairs to watch TV until she drifts off in the early hours of the morning and Stiles lets himself in and starts the coffee sometime around 10. They spend the day with Derek shopping and fending off women who want to fawn all over Talia. She had bitten a woman two weeks ago and Derek had practically run out of the store with Talia giggling in his arms. 

“Morning sunshines,” Stiles calls, waving a mug of coffee in front of Derek and a bottle in front of Talia who stretches awake and lets out an excited growl to see Stiles. 

The little girl adores him, it’s obvious and on more than one occasion she’s held her arms out for Stiles when she hurt herself rather than for Derek. There’s also the small issue of her trying to get her mouth around Stiles’s name. She sits in her chair, bouncing, mouthing “sa…sa…sa…” and Derek cant find it in himself to be jealous. He doesn’t want to admit how adorable he finds it though. 

Derek’s not really sure how Stiles manages to let himself in without either of them waking sometimes but Stiles’s is deceptively stealthy when he wants to be. Derek takes the mug from Stiles and sips at the elixir. Stiles lets out a small laugh as Derek closes his eyes and he hears the rustle of grocery bags from the kitchen. 

“So I picked up some more milk, because we all know how much little miss here drinks. I think she might have a problem,” he lets out an exaggerated _oomph_ and Derek realises Talia has slid off the couch to toddle over to Stiles and is currently winding herself around his legs. “Ok fine,” Stiles throws his hands up as Derek looks at them both over the top of the couch. “No problem. You know,” he picks her up and deposits her into her highchair, “admitting it is the first step to recovery.” 

“Toaf,” Talia slaps her hands against the tray in front of her and Stiles grins. 

“Ok, ok…Jeez,” he pops two slices of bread into the toaster and picks up her discarded bottle. “Demanding. Bowl or plate?” He holds up her Disney Princess plate and her Iron Man bowl (to reduce gender stereotyping, according to Stiles) and Talia seems to contemplate for a second before pointing at the bowl. 

“Bow,” Stiles nods and shoves the plate back onto the counter. 

It’s not like Stiles spends any more time here than normal, he was always popping around, especially after Boyd died, but Derek is, strangely enough, more comfortable with him around. His loft feels empty when he’s not here and even Talia’s constant chatter can fill the silence sometimes. It’s…strange. To say the least. 

He pushes himself to his feet and wanders into the kitchen just as Talia’s toast pops up. She chirrups from her highchair and Stiles smiles at her. Derek watches the easy way Stiles is with her, the way he slides the bowl of toast in front of her, the way he ruffles her hair (which needs a cut soon, he thinks absently) and wonders when this kid, this irritating kid who talked too much, became such an integral part of his tiny family. 

He realises he’s staring when Stiles looks up at him. 

“What?” For one crazy moment, Derek thinks about kissing him. About spending an entire evening with his lips at the nape of Stiles’s neck, the curve of his back. He thinks about following the path across his skin that his moles make. He thinks about sinking into his body and, for the first time since Kate, making love to someone until the word lovemaking doesn’t exist anymore. “Derek?” Stiles waves a hand in front of his face. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he thinks about how easy it would be, to reach across the space between them, curl his hand around the back of his neck and pull him close, to hover over his lips for a second as if waiting for permission they both know he’ll get, then to close the space and press his lips to Stiles’s. 

“You ok there buddy? You’re kinda spazzing out.” 

“Tired,” Derek rubs at him temples and Talia hums into her toast, strawberry jelly smeared over her cheeks. “You working today?” Derek asks and Stiles shakes his head. 

“No, not today,” Stiles works at the Library in the afternoons. He doesn’t need much money, he says, and it keeps him busy until he figures out what he wants to do. And wasn’t that a turn up for the books that Derek had actually asked him about that. Stiles pours more coffee into Derek’s mug and puts the pot back on the counter. 

“Toaf,” Talia demands and Stiles makes a show of looking in her bowl. 

“You’ve eaten all that already?” He lifts up her t-shirt, “where did it go?” Talia giggles. “Ok princess, more toaf.” 

“Stay,” Derek hears himself say and Stiles freezes as he pops the toaster down again. 

“What?” He looks like Derek’s just asked him to eat his own arm. 

“Hang out today,” _yeah well done Derek, that made it sound so much better_. He wants to hit himself upside the head. 

“Again…what? You never want to ‘hang out’,” Stiles squints at him as the toast pops up. Talia slaps her sticky hands against the tray again. “Are you dying?” 

“Toaf.” 

“Coming sweetheart,” Stiles says absently and the _sweetheart_ catches Derek off guard, makes his chest hurt as Stiles smiles briefly at her. 

“No, I’m not dying,” he feels like a fifteen year old idiot asking a girl out. Except he’s not asking Stiles out. Is he? “We can always go back to me threatening you, if you prefer that?” 

“No, no…I’ll hang out.” Stiles grins as he looks down at the toast and cuts the crusts off. He puts half a piece into Talia’s bowl and licks his fingers and that’s not really helping. 

_Helping with what?_ He wonders. He’s never thought about Stiles as anything other than an unfortunately accessory to Scott. But he can’t help and remember the way the loft feels empty without him now, and he feels like he and Talia are just rattling around it in, waiting for Stiles to come back whenever he leaves. He wonders if he feels comfortable in Stiles’s presence because he’s so unlike anyone else in his life, the polar opposites of Jennifer, of Kate, he’s more like Paige was. Quick to answer back and so understanding it blows his mind sometimes. He shakes his head, Stiles isn’t like Paige, and he can’t put them together like that because they’re both individuals. Stiles is Stiles and there’s no one else in his life like him. 

“No sweetie, that’s too much,” Stiles leans towards Talia and fishes half of a piece of toast out of her mouth. Months ago Stiles would have grimaced, run his hands under water and scrubbed until they were pink if Talia drooled on them. Now he’s shoving his hands into her mouth to stop her from choking and Derek feels his chest hurt as he watches Stiles just rubs his hands against his jeans briefly. “So what are we going to do today?” Stiles asks, and he’s looking at Talia but Derek gets that he’s speaking directly to him. Talia reaches up and runs her sticky fingers over Stiles’s nose. “Thanks.” Stiles sticks his tongue out at her and she giggles as he wipes the side of his fist down his nose. Derek lets out a small laugh. 

“She needs some more clothes,” Derek says and Stiles nods. 

“Ok, we’ll hang out whilst you do that,” he says and Derek shakes his head, sipping at his coffee whilst Stiles mops up the chewed toast and jelly from Talia’s cheeks. 

“No, come with,” Stiles stops, mid wipe and Talia lets out a noise of protests. 

“Sorry darling,” he says to Talia and then looks at Derek. “You want me to come with you? Like out in public with you?” 

“You don’t have…”

“No…No, I’ll come. I’m the one with the fashion sense after all.” He grins and Derek feels his chest tighten and then ease. 

“The fashion sense for a one year old girl? Man, I would be so proud if I were you.” 

“Shut up.” 

…

Stiles is confused. 

He’s carrying around a stupid amount of bag, all with Baby Gap emblazoned on them, he’s been mistaken for Derek’s boyfriend approximately four times and Derek is _still_ smiling. 

Hence the confusion. 

He’s also confused as to why he’s here anyway. Not that he’s complaining obviously. He adores Talia and, not that he wants to admit it but his evening fantasies have more often than not nowadays had Derek in a recurring guest star role. And those fantasies are making it harder to be around Derek and not jump his bones. Having Derek ask him to come shopping with them is just making that all the more hard. Hard being the operative word. 

Sure he’s had inappropriate fantasies about Danny before but let’s face it, who hasn’t? It’s those dimples, they’re lethal. Stiles is pretty sure _Jackson_ had fantasies about Danny. What’s different those is this is Derek, scary ‘I’m going to rip your throat out’ Derek, who hated Stiles and now just tolerates his presence because he’s good with Talia. This is a guy, very much so, and even in his darkest moments Stiles doesn’t want to admit that he’s jerked off to the thought of Derek naked before. Nope. Never going to happen. 

Because Stiles doesn’t want to even admit to himself that he might be attracted to Derek. 

“You’re gonna need a bigger car if this is going to become a thing,” Stiles says as he folds himself into the back of Derek’s Camaro. Derek just shrugs and flips the seat back, trapping Stiles between metal, glass and leather that smells like Derek. 

Derek shoves the bags in to the back through the space between the front seats and grins at Stiles as he lets out a grunt, catching the bags. Stiles has a hard time catching his breath after that. Derek straps Talia into the car seat and she chirrups happily as Derek hands her a cheese puff.

“Cheese,” she nods at the corn puff in her hand and Derek ruffles her hair before slamming the door shut. 

“Well Tals, I’m pretty screwed when it comes to your dad,” he says to her and she cranes her neck round to grin around a mouthful of corn puff at him. “Nice.” 

“Da,” she says in response as Derek opens the car door and him and Stiles both freeze. 

“Did she just?” Stiles says and Derek slides into the drivers seat, his face a blank canvas as he looks at Talia. 

“Da,” she says again pointing at Derek and Derek, much to Stiles’s astonishment, looks like he might cry. Talia points behind her at Stiles. “Sssaa,” she tries and Stiles lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Dada,” she mutters to herself looking down at her corn puff and Derek lets out a shaky breath, curling his hands around the steering wheel. Stiles wants to lay his hand on his shoulder and feel the barely contained emotions radiating out of him. 

“Ok, lets get you home before you make Uncle Stiles cry,” Derek says, throwing Stiles a quick smile in the rear view mirror and pulling the car out into the road. Stiles leans back in the cramped seat and fiddles with an adorable straw hat some woman made him buy from Baby Gap. 

…

Derek hands him another beer and slides back onto the couch. Stiles stars at it like he’s contemplating drinking it. 

“You might as well crash here,” Derek hears himself saying, looking at Stiles looking at the bottle and Stiles blinks up at him. “It’s late.” 

“Ok,” Stiles says simply and Derek can’t help think that he’s at a tipping point in his life. When you’ve been pushing on something and it starts to move and you realise you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted. It’s the moment just before this realisation when everything is completely calm and Derek looks at Stiles across the space between them on the couch. Talia nuzzles further into Stiles’s side, thumb in her mouth. “We’re going to have to set stricter bed times,” Stiles says, nodding down at Talia whose head is lolling against his side. Derek lets out a small laugh and wonders when his life became about these two people on his couch. When it narrowed down to just Stiles and Talia. “Right,” Stiles slaps his thighs gently and manages to stand without letting Talia fall sideways. She grumbles but goes willingly as Stiles picks her up, her head falling against his shoulder, her mouth against his neck and Derek feels a pang of irrational jealousy for the baby girl. And for Stiles and the fact he got her to fall asleep before 1 am. “I’ll put her down.”

Derek watches him go, one of her arms dangling over his shoulder, the other with her thumb still firmly in her mouth. Stiles looks the picture of domesticity, so easy with Talia over his shoulder that Derek feels himself move, feels something in him snap, the thing he’d been pushing on finally moving. 

He runs a hand through his hair and stands, meets Stiles halfway up the stairs as Stiles is coming down and cups his hands around Stiles’s face just as Stiles says “she’s still,” and he kisses him. Stiles freezes, his words barely out of his mouth before Derek covers his mouth with his own. Stiles’s hands curl around his wrists. “Asleep,” Stiles whispers when Derek pulls away. He could push this, he could probably have Stiles right now, drag him to the couch and see him come undone under his hands but Derek just presses their lips together again briefly, almost softly and lets him go. 

“There are blankets in the closet down the hall,” he says and Stiles blinks at him. Derek passes him, “night Stiles.” 

“Night.” 

…

 

“Did I hallucinate last night or did you kiss me?” Stiles asks as Derek walks into the kitchen the following morning. Talia is already in her chair. 

“Hi,” she sings as Derek walks past her and drops a kiss to her head. Stiles still has a problem with seeing Derek like this, seeing him care for another living thing without teaching them lessons by breaking bones. The Derek that kisses the top of his _daughters_ head as he walks past, the Derek who checks the milk is the right temperature on the inside of his wrist. The Derek who walks into Baby Gap and manages to look like he belongs there. 

“Cos, I mean, I might have totally hallucinated that which is fine, well probably not fine for you cos that might be a bit weird for you but fine if it was just a hallucination, cos they don’t mean anything, I mean they’re like dreams right? You can’t control hallucinations anymore than you can control dreams and it’s not like I…”

“Stiles…shut up.” There’s a faint curl at the corner of Derek’s lips but its there before a second before it’s gone. 

“Ok,” Stiles nods into his coffee and jumps slightly when the toast pops. It wasn’t an hallucination, Stiles knows that, he can still feel Derek’s lips against his own, and Derek’s hands around his face but he needs Derek to say that. 

“It wasn’t an hallucination,” Derek says quietly, pulling the toast from the toaster and spreading butter and then jelly on it. He cuts it into small squares and drops it into Talia’s bowl. 

“Right,” Stiles replies and opens his mouth to speak. Derek turns. 

“And I know you want to talk about it but I don’t…not yet,” he says and Stiles snaps his mouth shut. 

“Ok,” He replies and Derek nods. “I should probably go, though,” Stiles hooks his thumb over his shoulder and for one scarily delightful moment he thinks Derek’s going to kiss him again. Derek just nods and wraps his hands around his coffee. 

“Bye,” Talia waves a jelly covered hand at him. He grins at her and blows her a kiss. 

“See you later Princess.” 

“Stiles…” Derek calls as Stiles is at the door. He turns to find Derek closer than he thinks and he breathes in. Derek’s nostril twitch, his eyes flicking down to Stiles’s mouth. “Thanks…for everything you do for Tals.” 

Stiles can’t stand this tension, he either wants to be naked and horizontal or back to how they were before Derek decided to kiss him. And he’s pretty sure naked and horizontal is out of the picture right now so he claps Derek on the shoulder. 

“No probs buddy, later taters.” 

He regrets his words the entire way home. 

…

“I think I’m in love with Derek,” Stiles blurts as soon as the door opens and he’s greeted by Chris’s face instead of Allison’s. Chris raises his eyebrow and Stiles lets out an embarrassed laugh and waves a little. 

“Hi,” he says and Chris rolls his eyes and steps back to let him in. Stiles bolts for Allison’s room. 

“I think I’m in love with Derek,” he says and finds himself face to face with both Allison _and_ Lydia. “I have _got_ to stop doing that,” he says to himself as Lydia raises an eyebrow just like Chris and Allison laughs. 

“Oh Stiles, come sit,” Allison moves aside and pats the bed next to her. Stiles groans, sits on the bed and flings himself backwards. “What happened?” 

“Did you have hot gay sex?” Lydia asks and Stiles swats away her hand making lewd gestures. 

“He kissed me,” he says and Allison lets out a pleased squeal as she lies down next to him, her head propped up on one elbow. He turns his head to look at her. 

“Just to clarify, he actually made the first move right? I mean you didn’t lunge at him?” Lydia asks adopting the exact same pose as Allison on Stiles’s other side. He runs his hands over his face and sighs. 

“We were sitting on the couch with Talia between us and he said I should crash there,” Lydia clamps her hand over his mouth and looks across him at Allison. 

“Crash? When has Derek offered to let any of us crash at his place?” Stiles pulls her hand away. 

“Excuse me, in the middle of a story right now…” Lydia looks down at him. 

“Sorry, continue.” 

“Thank you. So he says I should just crash there and I got put Talia to bed and I’m walking down the stairs and then he’s there and kissing me and I swear to god I don’t move and my _god_ I sound like a girl.” He groans the last bit with his hands over his face, his voice muffled by his hands. Lydia snorts in an inelegant way and Allison pulls his hands away gently. 

“And how do you feel about it?” 

“Did you start taking a Psychology Major without me knowing?” Stiles asks. 

“That’s Psychiatry, not Psychology,” Lydia pipes up and Allison smiles a fond smile at her before looking back at Stiles. 

“Seriously Stiles, how do you feel?” She screws up her forehead a little and looks sympathetic. 

“Did the fact that I burst in here shouting about being in love with him mean nothing to you?” He asks and Lydia snorts again. 

“Why are you talking to us instead of Scott?” Lydia asks and Allison looks across at her. 

“Scott?” Stiles asks, “Can you imagine Scott’s face? Scott’s ‘I think that’s great man now going back to Allison’,” Allison blushes prettily and Lydia fakes gagging. 

“He’s got a point,” Lydia says and Allison blushes more. 

“Urgh what do I do?” Stiles whines and covers his face again. 

“Talk to him?” Allison offers and Lydia raises one eyebrow at her. 

“Yeah, because Derek’s oh so chatty,” She says and Allison shrugs.

“No…Allison’s right, I should talk to him.” Stiles sits and pushes himself to his feet. He’s got to get to work now but he’ll head over the tomorrow morning to talk to him, to find out why the hell Derek kissed him. 

“Go get him tiger,” Lydia says, looking down at her nails like she’s bored. Allison shakes her head at her and looks up at Stiles and offers him an encouraging smile. 

“Ok, love you both. Gotta get to work.” 

He tries to ignore the way his lips tingle all day. 

…

They don’t talk about it for months. 

Talia grows literally overnight. And suddenly she’s one, or what they assume is one and Stiles made Derek remember the last time he slept with Jennifer and added 9 months to get her birthday and he drafts Lydia, Allison and Cora in to bake cakes and make pink lemonade and Derek comes into his kitchen to find it strewn with flour, empty lemon skins and pink paper cups. 

“Stiles!” He shouts and Talia screams in glee from somewhere in the loft. He appears with Talia on his hip, her cheeks pink and she’s giggling along with him. 

“What?” He puts Talia on the ground and she runs towards Derek on shaky legs. Derek squats and catches her. 

“Why does it look like a Princess Party has exploded in my kitchen?” Talia pushes out of Derek’s arms and wobbles back towards Stiles. He grins down at her in the way that takes Derek’s breath away. He wonders, as he looks at Stiles sit on the floor and give her a high five, why the hell he hasn’t talked to Stiles about kissing him. Why he hasn’t grabbed Stiles and kissed him until they both cant breathe anymore. Stiles has filtered into every aspect of his life, Stiles and Talia have bought _life_ back into his life and for the life of him, Derek can’t understand why he hasn’t let Stiles know that. 

“Because a Princess Party exploded in your kitchen,” Stiles says, grinning up at him. Since Derek kissed him, Stiles has been a little distant, pulling away, probably unsure of how they can be now. But he’s stayed, more than likely because of Talia. Derek just thinks he needs to find a way of telling Stiles he wants him in his life until time stops. 

“Right…where are the girls?” Talia slumps to the floor like a sack of potatoes and giggles at Derek. 

“Buying more balloons,” Stiles says and stands. Talia lets out an annoyed squeak at him and he points a finger at her. “Uh…less of that.” Talia stares at him, like she’s trying to figure out if crying would make Stiles stay on the floor with her. She obviously decides against it and pushes herself to her feet and wanders over to Derek. He stands and holds her hand, walks towards the kitchen slowly with her. 

“We don’t have enough?” Derek asks looking at the loft littered with pink and white balloons. “Who exactly is coming?” 

“Allison and Scott, Isaac, Cora, my dad and Melissa, Deaton said he might pop over at some point,” Stiles wipes some flour into his palm and dusts them off in the sink. 

“We need to get her some of her own friends,” Derek says and Stiles laughs a little and picks up a few lemon skins and dumps them into the trash. “Stiles…” It’s pointed and Stiles stops, turns slowly to Derek. 

“Not now ok? You’ve kept me waiting for months, I think you can wait until this party is over,” He says and Derek nods even as his fingers itch to reach out to him. 

“I just…” he starts and Stiles shakes his head. 

“I can’t do this now Derek, _please_ ,” it’s the please that gets him and Derek snaps his mouth shut. Stiles gives him half a forced smile. 

“Daddy,” Talia tugs on Derek’s pant leg and Derek looks down at her. She’s got pink frosting on her cheek and Derek wipes his thumb across her cheek. 

“Oh shit the frosting,” Stiles drops to his knees and rescues the bowl of frosting Talia somehow managed to somehow get. There are little finger holes poked in it and Derek cant help but laugh as he wipes Talia’s face. 

“The things we worry about nowadays,” he laughs and Stiles looks up from the frosting at him. 

“Who would have thought I would miss worrying about supernatural things?” Stiles says, standing and placing the bowl of frosting in the middle of the counter. As if on cue, Talia sneezes and her teeth grow. Derek raises an eyebrow at her and looks up at Stiles. 

“I think you still have to worry,” Derek says and Stiles licks his lips. It’s unintentional but the air between them crackles with things unsaid. He wants to kiss Stiles, kiss the taste of frosting and lemons out of his mouth. Wants to run his fingers down the side of Stiles’s jaw and press his thumb under his chin and feel his swallow. Stiles takes a step back from him and shakes his head as if he can see straight into Derek’s head and the images of Derek pressing Stiles against the counter. Derek takes a step towards him and Stiles curls his fingers around the edge of the counter behind him. He swallows, the noise an audible click in the sudden silence. Even Talia has gone quiet, looking between them as Derek flicks his gaze down to her for a second. 

“Derek…” Stiles shakes his head again and Derek takes another step forward. 

“I’ve been a dick,” Derek says and Stiles lets out a brief but shaky laugh, sobers as Derek reaches him. “And I want to kiss you Stiles so if you really don’t want me to, tell me…” Derek reaches one hand out, slides his fingers along Stiles’s jaw and there’s a faint rasp of stubble beneath his fingertips. Stiles’s eyes slide shut, eyelashes a faint smudge against his cheeks. Stiles smells of baking, a hint of butter, flour and sugar behind the almost overwhelming scent of _Stiles_ and it’s intoxicating. 

“I want you to,” he says and opens his eyes. Derek’s noticed them before, deep and brown, full of expression, more often than not pain, but now they shine with an amber he’s not really seen before. “But I want to do this right and…” he breaks off with a groan and curls a hand into the front of Derek’s shirt and pulls him forward. He groans again as Derek overcomes his own surprise and kisses him back. Stiles tastes like Derek remembers, warm and safe, and there’s frosting on his tongue as Derek runs his own over it. He dimly hears Talia push herself to her feet and toddle off somewhere and at the back of his mind he thinks he should follow her but Stiles groans again, a noise pulled deep from his toes and runs his teeth over Derek’s bottom lip and he can’t bring himself to pull away from Stiles, not when he’s got him like this. Not when he’s finally decided to go for this. 

“We should…” Stiles mutters, his hands sliding around Derek’s hips, fingers digging into his skin. Derek peppers kisses along Stiles’s jaw, runs his lips over the shell of Stiles’s ear. 

“No we shouldn’t,” he mutters and then bites gently down on Stiles’s ear. Stiles’s head falls to the side and he runs one hand through Derek’s hair and grips at the back of his head. 

“I want…” 

“What?” Derek answers Stiles’s whispered plea. “What Stiles?” He rolls his hips forward and Stiles mutters off a curse. 

“So much…everything,” Stiles tugs and lifts Derek’s head from where he had his nose pressed to the delicious pulse thudding under Stiles’s skin. “But…” 

“Balloons!” The front door slides noisily open and Cora, Allison and Lydia bundle into the loft holding even more balloons. Derek doesn’t move from Stiles’s body though, keeps him pressed up against the counter because he’s damned if his kid sister and a few girls are going to make him let Stiles go right now. “Derek, let Stiles go and help us,” Cora says, elbowing Lydia in the ribs and Lydia grins at them both. Allison looks like she might cry and lets the strings of the balloons go and she stoops to pick up Talia. The balloons rise to the ceiling, bump across a couple of exposed pipes and settle. Derek groans internally wondering how long they’re going to stay there for. Stiles pushes at his shoulders. 

“Later,” he mutters and slips out from between Derek and the counter. Derek wants to growl at Cora who looks innocently at him. 

“What?” She grins as she passes him and slaps his face gently. 

“You were waiting for that weren’t you?” He asks and Cora drags her finger through the pink frosting and shoves it into her mouth. She cocks her head to the side and contemplates as she swallow. 

“Maybe…oh smile for once big bro, it wont kill you,” she laughs and hands him a balloon. It’s pink, with some kind of Princess printed on it and Derek glares at it, like everything’s the balloons fault. 

“It’s Rapunzel,” Stiles offers, slipping past him with another handful of balloons and tying them to the spiral staircase. 

“What?” Derek asks stupidly, watching Stiles’s hands work the strings into elaborate knots and it makes his stomach clench with the thought that he could have those hands on him. He nods at the balloon in his hands. 

“It’s Rapunzel…on the balloon,” Derek laughs and hands it over to Stiles, makes sure his fingers run along Stiles’s knuckles. Stiles frowns and bites on his bottom lip. 

“Does it not bother you that you know that?” Stiles laughs as well, the sound such a pleasure to hear after so long with the uneasy tension between them. There’s still a shade of shakiness in it though and Derek reaches out and tugs gently on the belt loop of his jeans. 

“You know who the Wiggles are,” Stiles counters, holding Derek a safe distance from him with a warm palm on his chest. 

“Touché,” Derek works his hand under Stiles’s t-shirt and Stiles lets out a small whine.

“Stop it,” Stiles goes for firm but he misses by a mile and Derek sees the warmth in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to,” Derek says tugging him closer but Stiles’s hand is still firm on his chest, despite the darkening of his eyes as he looks at Derek’s throat. 

“Cake disaster,” Lydia shouts from the kitchen and Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“See? Cake disaster,” he pushes gently and Derek wants to forget everyone else in the loft right now and just lock him and Stiles away until Stiles stops pushing. As he walks past Derek, Derek reaches out and pulls him back to his chest, Derek presses his hand to Stiles’s stomach and keeps him there. 

“I will have you later when you have no more excuses,” he says into Stiles’s ear and he feels the full body shudder Stiles does and he feels the way Stiles presses back against him. Derek runs his lower lip across the shell of Stiles’s ear. 

“I hate you,” Stiles says, swaying slightly as Derek pulls back. Derek runs his fingers across the back of Stiles’s neck, rests the tips over Stiles’s pulse. 

“Say it again.” 

“I hate you,” Derek can hear the smile in Stiles’s voice, and his pulse jumps against his fingers. 

“Liar.” 

…

Talia’s on a sugar high, on John’s shoulders with pink frosting around her face. Allison and Scott are looking on fondly in a way that thinks there might be little McCall’s running around in the not too distance future. Cora and Lydia, having formed a unbreakable bond over the correct colour of Princess Frosting, are gossiping in the kitchen with Melissa and Stiles can still smell Derek on him. He can still feel Derek’s lips against his own, on his neck, across his jaw, over his ear. He wants nothing more than to shoo everyone out, have his dad look after Talia for the evening and find every part of Derek’s body that makes him groan. 

He’s tried to bring the first kiss up with Derek for the last few weeks, bringing it up when they’ve got Talia safely between them and Derek’s had clammed up every time. Stiles is still slightly pissed at him, he’s spent the last few weeks wondering what the hell was going on and now Derek has decided he cant keep his hands to himself. 

Derek looks at him from across the room as Talia holds her hands out to him and John hauls her off her shoulders and hands her over to Derek. Derek smiles with his eyes at him, a promising smile that makes Stiles catch his breath as Derek presses a kiss to Talia’s head with his eyes still fixed on Stiles. 

Stiles’s life has narrowed down to just a handful of people, important people that he would die for and he has no idea when Derek found his way into that group, let alone the small half werewolf girl sitting in Derek’s arms right now. He loves Talia, frighteningly so, and he’s so glad that he hasn’t had to fight for her because he’s pretty sure he would kill for her. He doesn’t want to think about starting the process for Derek to legally get guardianship of her because if Derek doesn’t…well Stiles doesn’t want to think about what Derek will do if he doesn’t. Talia lays her small sticky hand against Derek’s face and Stiles watches the way his expression melts as he looks down at her. It scares him how much he wants them both in his life. How much he wants to wake up to the smell of Talia’s breakfast with the noises of her and Derek in the kitchen. How much he wants to live his life with them. How no matter the small handful of people important in his life, his dad was at the top, and now he’s joined by Derek and Talia. 

Derek frowns at him in question, _you ok_ flashing across his face as Talia tugs on his ear and squeals when Derek bares his teeth gently. Stiles nods back at him, overwhelmed by the rush of feelings for Derek. Derek frowns even more and puts Talia on the floor. She walks over to Allison and Derek makes his way across to Stiles, worry on his face. 

“You ok?” He asks and Stiles shakes his head, reaches out for Derek and curls his fingers into Derek’s t-shirt. 

“No…I…” Derek reaches two fingers over Stiles’s chin and lifts his face. “I’m so hopelessly in love with you.” It takes five seconds of Derek searching Stiles’s face before his own breaks out into a blinding grin that makes Stiles want to cry. 

“Why do you look so worried about it?” Derek asks, his voice low and his hand slides around to the side of Stiles’s neck, resting over his pulse like he’s subconsciously testing out for a lie. 

“I’m not I’m just…took me a little by surprise is all,” he laughs gently and Derek cups both his hands around Stiles’s face. He kisses Stiles then, gently, almost tenderly and Stiles can only curl his fingers around Derek’s wrists and hold on. Derek pulls away and nudges his nose against Stiles and lets out a shaky breath against Stiles’s lips. 

“You would come to this conclusion when we’re surrounded by people, wouldn’t you?” He groans when he hears his name being yelled from somewhere else in the loft. 

“You wouldn’t want to have it too easy,” Stiles replies, feeling lighter than he has for months. Derek’s face sobers and his hands tighten slightly against Stiles’s face.

“Thing is Stiles,” he presses his lips to Stiles’s again, “it’s always been easy with you. It’s always made sense even when it didn’t.” 

“Derek!” It’s Cora shouting and Derek growls softly and kisses Stiles quickly. 

“I’m going to strangle her with her own vocal cords,” Derek stalks off across the loft and Stiles laughs briefly, feel hysteria bubble up his throat as he curls his fingers around the counter of the kitchen. Derek’s face, so serious and real staring at him telling him that it’s always made sense, _they’ve_ always made sense. Stiles shakes his head and laughs again as Talia comes into the kitchen wearing more frosting on her face and dress than she probably got into her mouth. 

“Hey princess,” he says and crouches down on the floor in front of her and she grins. 

“Size,” her little hands press into his knees and she leans up with her lips pouted for a kiss. Stiles leans down and gives it to her and she giggles. 

“So me and your dad huh?” 

“Daddy,” Talia nods.

“What do we think?” 

“Good,” Talia bounces on her toes and grins. 

“Good?” She nods again. “Yeah…it’s good.” 

“Size and daddy,” she says and Stiles grins at her. 

“Yeah baby, Size and daddy.” 

…

“Let me take her,” John holds out his hands for Talia who giggles and holds her own out. Stiles browns but hands her over. 

“Why?” Stiles asks and Derek wants to hit him. Let John take her if he wants to, because Derek wants to touch Stiles without interruptions, without anyone else around. 

“Because you both look like you’re about to drop,” John says and Melissa nods as Talia reaches out and twirls her little fingers into Melissa’s curls. 

“We’ll take her for the night, we’ll have a sleep over,” she says and grins at Talia who squeals in delight when John tickles her. 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks and Derek has already ushered Cora and the others out, sending Cora off to spend the night with Lydia because he wants Stiles alone. Cora had grinned and told him to use protection and then laughed as she grabbed Lydia’s arm and pulled her home. 

“Sure, plus…” he lowers his voice, unused to Werewolf hearing, “it looks like you and Derek have things to _talk_ about.” Stiles chokes and John pats him on the back, grabs Talia’s bag and calls out goodnight to Derek. 

“Night John,” he calls back from the kitchen and there’s the metallic slide of the door and then Stiles appears, leaning against one of the pillars and running his hand through his hair. 

“So…” There’s a faint blush against his cheeks like he’s embarrassed that his dad picked up whatever this is between them.

Whatever this is? He looks across at Stiles and understands why the rush of feelings took him so totally by surprise earlier. He feels exactly the same, like a punch to the gut, blown away by the strength of what he feels when he looks at Stiles. He gets it when he looks at Talia as well, but this is different, this is…fuck. He’s in love with Stiles. Truly, madly, deeply or however the expression goes. He’s in love with the gangly kid who’s no longer and kid and no longer gangly. He’s in love with the kid who cant shut up sometimes. Who has a spark of something under his skin, Derek feels it whenever he touches Stiles. He’s in love with the kid that’s more than likely his Emissary. He’s in love with this kid that’s so much more than a kid, that’s come into his life and bought with him smiles and laughter and warmth. 

“I got scared,” he blurts and Stiles blinks at him. 

“So we’re talking?” Stiles asks and Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“Would you rather not?” He half smiles and Stiles shakes his head, pushing himself off from the pillar and walking towards the counter. There’s still half eaten cupcakes strewn across it, a few balloons still up in the rafters and half hanging in the air and the loft smells of sugar and Stiles. 

“No…talking’s good. Continue…” Stiles smiles a littler and presses his palms to the counter. 

“I got scared,” Derek says again and then takes a breath, “and I pushed you away and I’m sorry.” 

“Whoa…” Stiles grins crookedly at him. “Never thought I would hear you apologise,” he says and Derek rounds the counter and stands next to Stiles. 

“I apologise,” he says and Stiles turns, leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Not often,” Stiles mutters and Derek huffs out a laugh. 

“Ok…fine, not often but I’m sorry. I was trying to figure out if I wanted you in my life because of Talia or because I want you in my life,” Derek says and Stiles doesn’t say anything, just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as worry flashes across his face. Derek doesn’t say anything either, just looks back at Stiles. 

“What…” Stiles starts, his voice quiet and small, “what did you decide?” Derek smiles briefly, tugs on Stiles’s belt gently. 

“That I want you in my life because I want you in my life,” he says and Stiles lifts his hands to Derek’s chest with a sigh. 

“Good, because it would kind of suck if you didn’t given that I just admitted to being in love with you,” Stiles says, looking down at where his hands are pressed to Derek’s chest. Derek curls his hands around Stiles’s hips, the bones hard against his palms. 

“I love you too by the way,” Derek says and Stiles looks up at him with disbelief in his eyes. There’s a grin forming on his face, one that will be brilliant in its honesty but Derek doesn’t need to see it right now. He leans forward to kiss him just as Stiles curls a hand around his neck and tugs him forward with a muttered “ok, enough talking,” and then they’re kissing. Stiles groans and Derek turns him around, presses his back in to the counter. Stiles’s body is warm, it always is, radiating heat like he’s got a fire burning somewhere inside him, but he’s radiating a different kind of heat right now, one that burns deeper inside, one that sets Derek’s skin alight as Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s hair and grips at the back of his neck. Derek groans, licks into Stiles’s mouth and tastes frosting and cake. 

Derek cups at Stiles’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone before he reaches back and slips his lips along Stiles’s jaw. He rests his mouth over the thudding pulse in Stiles’s neck and Stiles groans again. 

“I do love your obsession with my pulse,” he mutters and Derek nips at the skin before pulling back and laughing slightly. Stiles’s eyes are heavy with lust and the blush on his cheeks travels down his neck under his too large t-shirt. Derek pushes the neck to one side and bites gently on his collar bone and Stiles groans like he’s coming already. 

“It’s your skin in general,” Derek replies, rubbing his cheek across the reddening bite mark on Stiles’s skin. Stiles huffs out a laugh and rocks his hips forward, sliding one thigh between Derek’s. 

“Is it a werewolf thing?” Stiles asks and Derek licks one long stripe up the side of his neck and bites on his ear. Stiles squeaks. 

“No…” Derek presses his own thigh upwards, feels Stiles’s hard dick against his denim clad thigh. “It’s a ‘your skin is perfect’ thing. I want to see all of it.” He’s rewarded by a full body shudder from Stiles, one that makes him grip harder at the back of Derek’s neck. He tugs Derek’s head back to his and kisses him hard. 

“I need you to stop talking and do something,” Stiles says and Derek grins. Thinks briefly about throwing Stiles over his shoulder and the resulting squawk he would get from Stiles and he laughs. “What? Are you laughing at me already? You haven’t even seen me naked yet.” 

“I am pretty sure that’s nothing to laugh about.” Derek says and Stiles frowns. “Get your skinny ass upstairs before I fuck you here.” Stiles looks like he’s about to choke and Derek cant help but laugh at him. 

“Please stop laughing at me, I’ll get a complex,” Stiles grumbles but gets over his surprise and manages to walk over to the spiral staircase. He adjusts himself and Derek hides a grin. He loves that he has that effect on Stiles. 

Derek gets him at the top, pulls him back against his chest and fingers the skin just above his belt. Stiles sighs and leans back in to him. Stiles’s stomach muscles quiver under his touch, and Stiles swallows audibly. 

“I…” he starts and the shake in his voice is enough to let Derek knows he’s nervous. He spins Stiles around and curls two fingers under Stiles’s chin, tipping his head up so he’s forced to look Derek in the eyes. 

“Nothing you don’t want…ok?” Derek says and Stiles swallows against the backs of Derek’s fingers. 

“I want everything,” Stiles says and Derek runs his nose along Stiles’s. 

“In time,” he says and Stiles nods, reaches out and rests a hand on Derek’s hip.

“You’re being horribly romantic,” Stiles mutters as Derek brushes his lips across Stiles’s and Derek huffs out a laugh, tugs him closer and keeps him there with a hand flat against his back. 

“Just hoping I will see you naked,” He mutters back and Stiles works his hand under his t-shirt, his palm hot against Derek’s skin. 

“I think we might be wearing too many clothes, in that case,” Stiles says and Derek lets him go to tug his t-shirt over his head. Stiles’s eyes grow wide and he reaches out to run his fingers over the ridges and grooves of muscle. “Well fuck.” Stiles looks up at him. Derek nods once at him and Stiles tugs his own t-shirt off. 

It’s been a while since Derek’s seen Stiles without a shirt on, and the years have been kind to him, the lack of definition has moved aside to let muscles show through, there’s a line of hair running down the centre from his belly button, dipping below his jeans and Derek wants to follow it with his tongue. There’s a sprinkling of hair across his chest and Derek swallows against his wolf who claws inside him trying to get out and mark the near perfect skin. Stiles goes to cross his arms over his chest, then shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Derek. 

“Ok?” 

“Are you seriously asking me if you look ok?” Derek asks and Stiles blushes, a bloom of colour against his otherwise pale skin. He shrugs and Derek growls softly in the back of his throat as he tugs Stiles forward and kisses him briefly. He shoves Stiles backwards onto the bed and holds up one finger to stop the protests from falling from his lips. “One…It’s not about what you look like…” Stiles quirks his head to the side as Derek tugs off one of his sneakers and throws it over his shoulder. He does the same with the other and then pulls off Stiles’s socks. “Two…It’s always just been about _you_ ,” Stiles draws in a breath as Derek toes off his own shoes and unpops the first two buttons on his jeans. “Three…despite it not being about looks, I can’t deny,” he pops another button and Stiles licks his lips, “you look pretty damn good right now.” Derek slips his jeans down his thighs and steps out of them. Stiles licks his lips again and his mouth falls open. It looks like he wants to say something but he just snaps his mouth closed instead. “In fact,” Derek continues, talking in a low voice and he can hear Stiles’s heart beat tripping inside his chest. He slips out of his boxers and strokes himself once. Stiles’s breath leaves his lungs and Derek opens his eyes to find Stiles staring at his dick with a mixture of worry and hunger on his face. Derek reaches down and tugs on Stiles’s jeans. They come down his thighs easily enough, and Derek throws them over his shoulder. He wants to take his time, to make Stiles remember this, to ease him into what he’s more than likely apprehensive about. He kneels between Stiles’s legs, not close enough to where he wants to be, but close enough that he can reach forward and pulls Stiles’s boxers down. Stiles lifts his hips to help and Derek can’t help the rumble of noise that escapes his throat when Stiles’s dick springs free. Stiles swallows and his heart misses a beat, “you look so good,” Derek curls his hand around Stiles’s ankle and then around and slides his hand up Stiles’s calf. The soft skin at the back of his knee is warm to the touch, the tendons stick out and Derek runs a thumb nail over them before doing the same on the other leg, “that I don’t think,” he runs his hands up Stiles’s thighs. “I’m going to let you out of this bed,” he spreads his hands out across Stiles’s hips, thumbs pressing into the juncture between the tops of his thighs and his hips and leans down to bite the soft skin on his stomach. “For a very,” Stiles whimpers as Derek’s breath ghosts over his dick, “very…”, his thumbs press into Stiles’s skin and Stiles mutters something under his breath that sounds like ‘please’. “Long time…look at me Stiles.” 

Stiles opens his eyes and looks at Derek. There’s so much swimming beneath the amber of his eyes that Derek wants to give him everything, wants to open up every single scar beneath his skin and show Stiles everything. Stiles’s lips part and Derek cant hold back anymore. He surges forward and covers Stiles’s mouth with his own, lowering his hips to Stiles’s. His dick, hard and tingling with desire to be touched, slides against Stiles’s, smearing precome across both of their stomachs. Stiles groans into Derek’s mouth, hand gripping at the back of his neck, his fingernails scratch over his skin and Derek hisses, drives his hips down harder. 

“I’m ok with that,” Stiles mutters, his lips slipping against Derek’s and he bites down on Derek’s lower lip. 

Derek wants to sink into Stiles’s body, wants to sink into that tight heat and stay there, but he also wants to carry on this, desperate frottage with Stiles writhing under his and his hands digging into Derek’s hair, his scent all around Derek, stronger where his pulse thuds beneath the skin of his neck. He bites down on the skin and Stiles jerks under him, a muttered curse slipping from his lips and his hand tugs on Derek’s hair. “Again,” he says and Derek bites again, licks at the skin afterward and Stiles arches his entire body under him, muscles quivering and sweat making their skin slick. Derek does it again and Stiles whispers his name and comes, shuddering under him and hot come makes his movements easier. Derek lowers a hand between them, his fingers brushing against Stiles’s dick and Stiles jumps, pulls his lip between his teeth and whines. Derek curls his hand around himself and jerks himself once, twice. He comes when Stiles tugs on his hair and looks him dead in the eyes and says “I love you.” 

Stiles is quiet afterwards, distractingly so and Derek pushes himself up onto his forearms and looks down at him. He runs his fingers across Stiles’s forehead and Stiles keeps his eyes closed but smiles distantly.

“I feel like…” he trails off and Derek nudges his nose against Stiles’s. Stiles laughs gently and opens his eyes. “I feel like we’ve started something…permanent.” Derek breathes out and presses a kiss to the tip of Stiles’s nose. 

“Good,” he says, grinning down at the irritating kid who’s worked his way into his life, “because we have.” 

…

Stiles wakes to Derek’s fingers tracing over his lower back. It’s still early and neither of them moved last night and there’s come dried and itchy on his stomach. Stiles groans and wiggles a little and Derek presses a kiss to the swell of his buttocks but continues tracing over his skin. 

“What you doing?” Stiles asks, throat dry and voice thick with sleep. 

“Playing connect the dots,” he says simply and Stiles cranes his neck around to glare at him. “You’ve got Vulpecular back here,” he says and Stiles raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ve got what now?” Derek leans down and kisses at his skin again before crawling back up to lie next to him. 

“Vulpecular…it’s a constellation, it means…” 

“The Fox,” Stiles finished and Derek nods and then wrinkles his nose. 

“You smell,” he says and Stiles tries to hit him but misses by a mile. 

“You aren’t exactly a bunch of roses, yourself,” Stiles counters, swatting away Derek’s fingers from his arm where he’s probably found another constellation. 

“No you smell good, like you and me…and sex,” his voice lowers on the last word and Stiles’s dick stirs beneath him. 

“Insatiable,” Stiles mutters as Derek runs a hand down his spine. Stiles turns on his back and Derek drawls over him and grins down at him. 

“We have time before your dad brings Talia back,” he says and Stiles arches up into him, wraps one leg around him. 

“Speaking of which…” he runs his foot down Derek’s leg. 

“We’re going to sort everything out,” Derek says, rolling his hips lazily, “we’re going to keep her with us Stiles, no matter what…ok?” Derek looks down at him and Stiles sees so much in his face that he cant help but believe him. 

“Ok.” 

“You,” he kisses Stiles, “me,” again, “and Talia.” 

“Permanent.”


End file.
